The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-23 02:36:57 -

The mahogany desk was a slab of dark, polished wood that seemed to swallow the light in the room. Elias Thorne stood before it, his spine rigid, the leather of his gloves creaking as he gripped the edge. He was thirty-two years old, a man carved from the same hard stuff as his uniform, but his eyes held a feverish intensity that no amount of discipline could mask. In his left pocket, a folded...

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